Winter: The Journey into 2015

Journey Mantra, prints available here

I've learned that sometimes life has other plans. If the universe has indeed been sending me whispers as I believe it does, let's just say I've been ignoring them and there was no choice but to yell to get my attention. I was busy making plans – business development, projections, new contracts. The works. Then life happened and here I sit with my world turned on its' end. My son needed me. He needed me to stop, to be there for him. My husband and I are choosing to unschool and I'm spending my days engaged with my son, learning to be present, and fitting in time for solitude and art. I'm re-imagining the year ahead. I'm finding my footing and trying to lean into this whole process. It has been a hard, hard road here with some of my darkest and most hopeless moments only weeks behind me. I've moved through labels and boxed solutions. I've faced judgement and fear. I've laid awake in anxiety. I was swallowed whole by grief and have been (am) struggling with my identity and the loss of my dreams as I had imagined them. It's been a hard road to acceptance of who I am and who my son is but I've come to a truer place of letting go, trusting my instincts as a mama and a sensitive soul, truly seeing my son and myself for all our beauty and strength, and knowing what's important.

This is where I need to be. This is where my son needs me to be. At home, present, and slow.

I'm thinking and reflecting a lot about a mothers' attachment to her child (not the child to mom, but the other direction) and seeing how easily this is eroded in a busy and stressful lifestyle. I'm really looking at those parts of myself that I'm not liking and seeing that it's within my hands to change – to slow down, pause and look into my son's eyes when he's telling me his biggest secret, to delight in him, to give a full hug when my husband comes into the room. To give time and quality. To trust my son when he tells me what he needs, especially if his only way to express it is through a tantrum or anxiety or fixation. To truly believe he doesn't need fixing (and neither do I). I feel like I've been on the run, avoiding, escaping, pleasing, multitasking, succeeding for so long. I'm exhausted. I'm ready to slow down. To practice being present. To let go.

It's not entirely simple though – removing external distractions in my life has opened up space for this stream of internal distractions and dialogue and restlessness that is deafening at times. There's something unnerving about simply being with yourself and your most cherished ones, yet there is a weightlessness and sense of peace that's so true. Yes, it's relief. It's the beginning of a new journey. And honestly I'm ready for it.

Here's my mantra for myself right now: Dear Self, be who you are and trust that your journey will unfold as it should. And I share the same wish for every other beautiful wholehearted person out there having their own breakdowns and breakthroughs.

xo